


All Is Well

by helike



Series: All Is Well [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Not Quite Epilogue Compliant, Severus Snape Lives, Severus Snape-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 19:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helike/pseuds/helike
Summary: Many years after the war Severus Snape settles in a Muggle town. There he finds understanding.





	All Is Well

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snape Lives Week at tumblr. This version slightly differs from the version I posted there. I figured I could do more showing then telling.

Years after the war, when Severus finally goes back to his homeland, he decides to live in a small Muggle town. Well, maybe not exactly small, as no one knows everyone there; it’s big enough to serve his purpose: not drawing attention to himself. Save for the usual attention that a new person moving into the neighbourhood might attract. This, however, quickly dies down and the scowl that sometimes appears on his face – in response to overly curious glances thrown in his direction – may have something to do with this as well.

He knows more or less what’s going on in the wizarding world; just enough to make sure no threat for him will ever come from there. It surely is convenient to be considered dead as no one will look for him. It’s even more convenient to live among Muggles as hardly any wizard (or a witch) will wander here by chance, and if they do... the news will spread quickly around the town. They always do when something unusual happens.

It bothers him a bit that the effects of Nagini’s venom still linger. There still is a scar on his neck, hard to hide even in turtlenecks he tends to wear. On his worse days he has to move slowly due to pain, his hands shake and he needs to wear glasses to read. But he lives; this is what matters the most.

Only once does it happen that he reveals some bits of his past to somebody else – a woman, the one that works in a little shop where he always buy his groceries, situated in one of the side streets surrounding the old market. She is there to see his face contort after an unexpected wave of pain. The pain that burns, tingles and stabs, making him feel as if somebody was pushing thick needles into his body. It clouds his mind and judgment, blurring the lines between what is real and unreal. There is nothing to prevent any of it; his jaws clench as he doubles in pain.

Before he knows it, there is an arm around him and a small hand on his chest. A gentle voice whispers soothing words in his ear.

“Don’t,” he manages to rasp when the warm embrace disappears and the woman announces her intention to call for help. “It will stop.”

He looks up, straight into her face – round, marked with wrinkles and rather pale, the latter being undoubtedly his fault. Her eyes are wide, her eyebrows drawn together and her lips are pressed tightly, so tightly that they look almost white. She looks a bit like a mother worrying about her child – this is what finally comes to Severus’ mind. For a short while he wonders if she has children and what her children may be like. Save for quite probably being as old as he is, that much he can say.

“I fought in a war,” Severus finally says, his voice sounding flat and strained. He doesn’t know why exactly he tells her that. “I was a soldier once...”

It’s not a lie, not really. He was a spy, he fought in two wars, he almost died, he survived.

Something changes in her face then; her expression softens, her eyes glitter with unshed tears. Her gaze flickers to the scar, a part of which is visible over the scarf draped around his neck. She raises her hand and strokes Severus’ cheek. Finally her hand rests on his shoulder and she squeezes it slightly.

The warmth spreads from her hand through his body, washing the pain away. There is a feeling, too, something warm and fuzzy, bringing thoughts of home and comfort and safety; something he hasn’t felt in ages, if ever. It should make him feel uneasy - he’s not used to people touching him - but it’s not and Severus finds himself wondering if all of this is how a mother feels.

“You poor, little thing,” she whispers.

No questions are asked after that. There is no “where’s” and “when’s”, just quiet acceptance and some support maybe.

He is fine with it.

In that town, in one of its side streets, in a small house with a red door and red shutters, under an assumed name, Severus enjoys living.

And all is well.


End file.
